Questions
by Sheena Wilde
Summary: La Volpe was asking him too many questions, about so many things he could not answer... - La Volpe/Machiavelli. This si my favorite AC pairing and I'm so sad that they don't get enough love. Well, I'm a bit new to writing AC stories, so I hope I got things right in this one... Rated T just to be sure.


It whole started that one time when La Volpe decided to spend his time at the Brotherhood's hideout while waiting for Ezio to arrive back from a mission. He wanted to immediately speak with him when he got back, he didn't want to waste any time, that was why he was there. He had fun though, watching the assassin recruits come and go on missions, train with each other or run errands for Machiavelli.

That was when he noticed that Machiavelli was actually quite nice with the novices. He was his usual cynical self for sure, but not as mean as he usually was with Volpe. Or rather, what he had started to be with him for about a month or two ago.

At first he thought he was just being paranoid – maybe he was just getting old. But as he spent a little time watching Machiavelli speak with others, he realized that he was right. Now the only task was to detect why it was so. But his thieves couldn't bring him anything. Whatever his reason was, it had nothing to do with the Brotherhood. It was something personal. That made La Volpe only even more determined to know about it. Personal disagreements made it hard to work together, and for once, he wanted to settle things down quickly and easily.

One day when the hideout was relatively empty with Ezio God knows where, most of the recruits on missions and the rest just lazing around somewhere else, La Volpe found Machiavelli sitting in the gallery, writing something into a small notebook. A perfect opportunity for them to speak.

The thief honestly just wanted to have a nice chat with Machiavelli, and slowly, subtly get it out of him as a thief should. But Machiavelli must have started to suspect something, because he quickly became defensive. Then one thing lead to another and he didn't know how, but they ended up with him pinning the young playwright to the wall, holding him down with a hand. They were looking at each other's eyes, both somewhat angry but determined.

La Volpe didn't let him escape, no matter how the other tried. He put a hand to the wall next to him on one side, while he still had a hold with the other on the younger's arm.

"I won't give up, Niccolò, not until you finally talk" he stated and leaned a bit closer, trying to be slightly intimidating. "Now tell me why you can't treat me like a human being, like you treat any other assassin" he demanded and looked right into his eyes.

"I… I don't know what you are talking about" Machiavelli stated silently, mostly to appear calm, what he wasn't by far, although he wouldn't have admitted it for anything. "You must have misunderstood something, I don't treat you any differently…"

"Don't give me that!" La Volpe cut in angered, startling Machiavelli with the sudden force of his voice. "I am neither dumb, nor blind! I noticed it, don't you try to deny it! Just tell me why you can't stand me! What have I done to earn your hatred?" he asked and squeezed the other's arm slightly. He was determined to get an answer, the faster the better.

"I really don't know what you mean" Machiavelli started definitely, finally finding himself and shook his head slightly, although he did not look into La Volpe's eyes. "I can honestly not understand where you got the idea that I hated you, but I can tell you that I do not. And now that I answered you, I would take my leave…" he said, trying to yank his arm free from his grip. But La Volpe was as stubborn as ever, no surprise there.

"Yes, you answered one question. I asked you two" the thief looked at him strictly, making Machiavelli glance away from him completely, visibly uncomfortable with the situation. "If it's not hatred that makes you treat me differently, then what?" he asked, waiting for an answer that never came. The other assassin was just looking downwards, lips pressed tightly together. "Look, Niccolò, I am just as stubborn as you are, so you can either answer and end it now, or stay here until one of us gets fed up with it. And I can guarantee you that one won't be me. I can be quite patient" he assured Machiavelli and raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"There is nothing I could tell you and most certainly nothing what I would have to, Gilberto" the Florentine assassin stated in a strong, angered voice, glaring at the other. "Now cut it out and let me go! Unlike you, I actually have something better to do right now!" he said, trying to escape from the thief, pulling his arm away with more force. To no avail, of course.

"Oh, I'd have other things to do, but I chose the most important" La Volpe shrugged, not letting go of the assassin. Once their cause had been endangered because he hadn't trusted the playwright. He didn't want to make that mistake again. He learned to trust him, and now he wanted to be trusted as well. "Now, come on and tell me, Niccolò! You'd spare precious time for both of us!"

"I told you I don't know what you mean!" he started defending himself again. "Release me, Gilberto!" he tried to break free from the other's grip, but only managed to get La Volpe to step even closer to hold him on place.

"Just tell me, Niccolò! You are playing dumb on purpose! Didn't you think I would notice?" he demanded even more vehemently and looked straight into Machiavelli's eyes. But the man simply looked back at him, gaze just as determined as the thief's. None of them said a word, they were just staring at each other's eyes stubbornly. Machiavelli started feeling very uncomfortable, but God help him, he wasn't going to turn his head away first. Even if it took all of his strength.

La Volpe had an easier time with keeping eye-contact, his curiosity not letting him rest until he knew what he wanted. He observed Machiavelli's gaze, keen to notice every emotion, every little changes that might be going through him. This high attention was the reason why he didn't miss that one moment when Machiavelli let his guard down. The moment when his eyes lit up with a certain light – desire.

La Volpe suddenly couldn't resist and leaned in to kiss him. He felt Machiavelli stiffen and for a moment he was afraid that he misunderstood him. If it was the case, he just made a very serious mistake, something that even he might not ever be able to fix… But then the young assassin threw his arms around his neck and started kissing back with such force it took La Volpe completely by surprise. All his worries faded away instantly and he pulled closer to Machiavelli, leaning against him as he pushed him against the wall, his hands resting at his sides. Kissing Machiavelli felt so good and so right, he wondered why they hadn't done this before.

"Machiavelli! Where are you?" they suddenly heard a loud, familiar voice. They quickly pulled away to a proper distance from each other and could only stare at each other's eyes, still panting and slightly wide-eyed. What just happened was something neither

of them really expected…

Machiavelli tried to calm his heartbeat as he waited for Ezio, the owner of the voice, to turn up. He knew he needed to put on a proper act if he didn't want him to get curious. The last thing he wanted was Ezio to start asking him about what's going on, too.

"Machiavelli! Finally I found you! Why didn't you answer me? Some of the old Borgia associates made an alliance and they attacked at the mercenaries' guild! I need you and the assassins who stayed in Roma!" he said quickly, then looked at the thief, as if he only now noticed his presence. "Ah, Volpe! If you could come too…!" he said, then immediately left to order the recruits he had gathered together.

"You heard him – go and fetch your thieves, this is a serious situation!" Machiavelli glanced at La Volpe briefly, then started towards the door.

"Wait, we are not finished with-" the thief began to protest and tried to grab the philosopher's arm.

"We have no time for private matters now! Our Order is in danger!" he shook his arms free as he scolded La Volpe, then hurried out of the room.

Two days later, when the situation calmed down, and every wound was treated, the guild leaders gathered to the headquarters. They talked about the current situation and made some changes in their plans. They realized that they had to keep an eye on everyone who had been close to the Borgias, as they still seemed to have the power and will to strike against the assassins. But for now they could rest after this little battle and aid to their other duties.

Though a strange and rather annoying game started between La Volpe and Machiavelli. While the older tried to corner him and speak with him alone, the young assassin kept his eyes open and always managed to escape. One moment Machiavelli would be alone in the gallery, writing something to his sketchbook but the minute La Volpe stepped in, he immediately needed to leave to do something urgent that couldn't wait, or someone important to meet with. They both knew this couldn't last forever and La Volpe wasn't going to give up. The young playwright tested his patience but he wouldn't let him get away with what happened so easily. He decided to do something drastic – disturb Machiavelli when he was working. This was considered a very dangerous step. If anyone tried to enter the assassin's office and there was no real threat or serious issue that would reason it, then God help the poor soul. But La Volpe couldn't care anymore- he tried doing it nicely and Machiavelli refused, leaving him no other choice. Now he was doing things on his own way.

So a night when the headquarter was almost empty, with Ezio out investigating the case of last attack, taking some recruits with him, and the other being on separate missions, La Volpe simply walked in to Machiavelli's office, rather loudly, and stopped in front of his desk, snatching the pen from his hand to make sure he had his complete attention.

"Excuse me?! I am working! What on earth do you think you are doing?" the young man protested and jumped to his feet angrily, trying to get his pen back. "Give that back to me and leave immediately!" he demanded and glared at the thief.

"I refuse" La Volpe shrugged and took a step back and out of the reach of the angered assassin. "I came here to discuss what you know we have to discuss but you deny to" he said and his words were followed by only silence. "We can continue this little cat and mouse game you have going on or act as mature adults and face the facts."

"Funny that you are the one to give me a lecture on how to act…" Machiavelli mumbled and casted his eyes down avoiding to look at the thief's eyes. He knew he was right, that they should stop this but he was afraid of it, even if he didn't want to admit it. Especially not to La Volpe.

"Well, now that you agreed to talk with me finally" the thief started, taking the silence as a yes, and Machiavelli waited for a sly grin to come to his face, but his expression remained serious. This made him even more unwilling to talk. "Last time we couldn't really settle things down and… and that kiss was… rather unexpected."

"You kissed me…!" Machiavelli said defensively, and although the table was between them, he took a step back.

"Yes, I know" La Volpe said, arching his eyebrows at the playwright's reaction. He put the pen down to the table, then crossed his arms. "Despite that fact, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't see you willing… what you were and it quickly became quite clear."

Machiavelli didn't answer the thief, just kept looking at the ground. There were a minute of silence while the young assassin was thinking and La Volpe was just patiently standing there, waiting for him to get somewhere with himself.

"What do you want me to do, Gilberto?" Machiavelli asked silently softly, still keeping his eyes down. His voice sounded so broken, so afraid… It shocked the thief.

"I merely want you to tell me the truth. Was that why you were acting so strangely with me before you started to avoid me completely?" he asked, changing his tone to a less demanding one.

"Now it's you who are playing dumb. You already know the answer. What more do you expect from me? I am not going to humiliate myself if that's what you want" Machiavelli looked up and glared at the thief, then straightened up and stepped back to the desk. "Now, please, leave and let me do my work!"

La Volpe was staring at Machiavelli with an unreadable expression, and the playwright tried to not to be disturbed by it. He only ever expected rejection, he had never meant to tell La Volpe what he felt. He sat down and reached for his pen to resume for his previous work and try to forget this little scene ever happened.

"You lose your logic when you are nervous, Niccolò" the thief said with a sigh and, once again, snatched the pen from the philosopher's hand who just looked up at him frowning. "It was me who kissed you if you don't remember. Do you think I would have done that if I wasn't interested?" he asked with a grin.

Then it all happened so fast. One minute Machiavelli was still sitting in his chair, staring dumbfounded at the thief, the next La Volpe stood beside him, tugging him up from his chair and pulled him to a kiss. But he simply couldn't resist him, couldn't stop him to ask him some questions… He just enjoyed it too much for that. Even if he knew it was going to cause them some trouble… As assassins, they were used to troubled lives.


End file.
